All That Is Left
by CheshireGrins
Summary: When Timoteo dies, all that's left is six grieving men and a heir. No pairing. Gen. 9th and 10th Generation.


Title: All That is Left  
>Summary: When Timoteo dies, all that is left is six grieving men and a heir.<br>Disclaimer: KHR is not mine.  
>AN: Because nobody writes about them.  
>AN (2013): It's been a long time since I've written this. It seems a little silly to me now, because nobody really moves past grief this quickly. I don't know why I didn't notice that before, but it's probably because I've been thinking about my aunt's funeral from when I was a child. In any case, I fixed some things, mostly grammatical stuff, but that's about it. I wonder if I'll even write anything like this ever again.

When Timoteo died, it was a regular day for 16 year old Tsuna. Tsuna had woken up to the brutal teachings of Reborn and had walked to school with Gokudera and Yamamoto. He had passed the school's gates before he could be considered late and be at the mercies of Hibari's tonfa. Lunch had been a loud affair underneath a tree just outside the school buildings.

It had been a normal day.

Or at least, it was until Tsuna had walked outside the school building with Gokudera and Yamamoto trailing after him, only to see a long black limo parked right outside the school gates with Hibari glaring at them balefully. He could see an aged man, who he briefly recognized as Coyote Nougat, the Nono's Storm guardian, leaning against the limo. He stared at the trio with grim eyes and a weak frown on his face. The students were obviously staring.

When Tsuna and his friends reaches the limo, the gossip is buzzing around madly, only kept quiet because of the glare Hibari sends each and everyone of them. When Tsuna bows respectfully to the Ninth Storm Guardian, the whispers only grow louder.

"Nougat-san," Tsuna says softly. His Intuition was teasing the edges of his thoughts. Something was definitely wrong, for the Nono's Guardian to meet him in such a public area.

Nougat acknowledges him with a brief nod and waves for him to get into the limo. "I have some news to discuss with you," he says. "Your Guardians may come with us."

He doesn't even look at Gokudera and Yamamoto, knowing that they will follow Tsuna regardless. He peers at the Cloud Guardian standing at the school's gates. Tsuna follows his eyes and gets a glare from the Cloud. He shakes his head, "No, only Gokudera and Yamamoto."

When he turns his gaze back to the limo, Gokudera is holding the door open and Yamamoto is already inside, a cheery grin on his face and a hand beckoning to him. He lets himself smile a little, despite the Intuition beginning to cause a headache. He slides into a leather seat and watches as the Ninth Generation Storm Guardian gives sharp instructions to the driver in Italian.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi, Tenth Generation Vongola Boss," Nougat says, when they are all settled and the limo is beginning to move.

"Yes, Nougat-san?" He asks, clamping down on the urge to say that he wasn't the boss, he just wanted to protect his friends, why didn't they understand that?

Nougat closes his eyes briefly, his hands clasped together tightly.

"The Ninth is dead."

And then it isn't such a normal day anymore and Tsuna's world breaks a little more.

-

When they hold the funeral, it's not the same as his own. They were going to bury the coffin.

Those red flowers are so different from my future self's.

The coffin is the same, only without the X, and all it holds is the harmonisation of the Sky. The people weren't the same however. Tsuna's Family is there (in black suits that fit them all too well), even if some really didn't want to be. But it was respectful to be present and the Tenth Generation could not lose face, because they weren't just kids they were killers, assassins, mafioso. They weren't just children in their father's suits anymore.

Tsuna's heart breaks a little when the Ninth's Guardians gather in the front of the coffin, laying down flowers in turns, looking so lost without the Sky.

Is this what my Family had looked like, when I had hatched a plot to save the world?

When it's the Tenth generation's turn to place flowers into a cold, cold, coffin, Tsuna is acutely aware of the grieving in the air and the stares upon his Family. His back stands a little straighter and the Family moves closer together. They have all matured a little, but Tsuna has grown the most and knows when to be strong.

"Good night, nonno*," he whispers softly into the air, hoping it to reach the sky.

*Because they weren't in Japan and wasn't it polite to call one's grandfather so in their own language?

-

The funeral is over, but they all linger.

-

Tsuna knows what he's doing when he breaks from his Family's little group (though Hibari was standing to the side, he was close enough just to say "Do not approach us.") and approaches Coyote Nougat, who sits near near the newly set down gravestone. He ignores Gokudera's cries of "Tenth" and settles down beside the sullen man, who cradles a cup of wine in one hand and the bottle in another.

"Will you be alright?" He asks, when the man doesn't even acknowledge his presence.

"What does it matter to you?" The man's voice is gruff and tired. His shoulder length hair (so similar to Gokudera's) is a mess and nothing like the well groomed man he had met several times before.

"He was my grandfather. However, you were his right hand man." Tsuna had never been told as much, but his Intuition was never wrong, as he had learned.

The Storm Guardian's face looks fierce, sad, and so, so, tired with it's wry smile as the wrinkles fold. "Yes. I was. The Storm Guardian always seems to be the right hand man, doesn't it. Your generation. The Primo's. Mine."

"Yes. And they were always loyal to such a fault," Tsuna replies softly. "You did him good, you know. Grandfather sometimes talked about you guys. You were so precious to him."

"We were."

"We will get revenge, you know."

"Good."

"But at this time, it's not about revenge, not yet," Tsuna says simply. "It's time to honor his memory."

"...Was he a good grandfather?"

Tsuna smiled sadly, "He was the best."

Then, he says, "Was he a good boss?"

Coyote is all smiles, his eyes a little brighter. "He was the best. Let me tell you about his times as boss... And you can tell me about his times as your grandfather..."

-

When he's done with talking to Nougat, he's walking to a man a little ways away from them. He's all scars and tired eyes. There was an x-shaped scar on his cheek that made his own scar on the back ache with terrifying memories of the future.

"Hello, Schnitten Brabanters." He was the Rain Guardian.

The man's eyes turn slowly to him, a blank smile on his face. "Vongola Decimo," he says. "Call me Schnitten."

"If that's what you want, Schitten," Tsuna says.

"It is," Schnitten says. He dips his hand into a pocket and pulls out two pieces of chocolate, wrapped in pretty silver foil. He offers one to Tsuna. The brunette smiles and takes it.

"Thank you. Do you like chocolate?"

"I like it a lot. Timoteo.. Timoteo liked it a lot, too." Schnitten's eyes seem to wander away a little. "My last name refers to a place in Belgium, you know."

It takes a moment for Tsuna to figure out what he means. "Ah, Belgium is famous for it's chocolate, isn't it?"

"Un."

"Were you born there?" Tsuna asks, his clumsy hands working to peel the foil off of the chocolate.

"Yes. And Timoteo... We met in Belgium. He promised that the Famiglia would go there together sometime when I was announced his Rain Guardian." Schnitten's hands seem to shake, even as he reaches in his pockets for more chocolate. "He was such a kind man. Even if we met when I was still young and inexperienced, he tolerated me and taught me."

They don't say anything for a while, both letting the sweet chocolate cover the bitter taste of death.

"Did you?" Tsuna asks after a while.

"Did we what?" Schitten turns to the small child that seems so dwarfed in a black suit among the men and women. Like a child wearing his father's suit when he was gone from home.

"Did you guys ever go to Belgium?"

"...We were going to. This month, maybe." Schitten's eyes seem to water a little and it's probably the rain because he hadn't cried in a long, long while. Timoteo liked it better when his friends smiled. It was perfectly sunny.

Tsuna's heart clenches hard. "Nonno doesn't break his promises. But he doesn't have the hands necessary to make it possible this time. Don't worry, Schnitten. I'll be his hands, this time."

Schnitten smiles a little and Tsuna smiles, too, and the world seems a little brighter.

-

Before Tsuna even gets to the Sun Guardian's side under a large willow tree, Brow Nie Jr. has already spoken.

"I was his Sun Guardian."

"I know," Tsuna says with a little smile on his face. His eyes drift to his own Sun Guardian, talking quietly for once with his fellow Guardians.

"I should have been able to heal him," Brow Nie Jr. says, a little dully. Grief is dark within his eyes.

"Yes."

"But I was not suited for combat. I never was. All I was, was a chef. That was all I was, a chef with the Sun at his hands. I was knocked down. I was useless." The lizard tattoo on his face writhes when the Sun Guardian's face twists into a pained expression.

"No," Tsuna says sternly. "If you were just just, you would not have been his Guardian."

"Oh, but I was," Brow Nie Jr. says. His hands grip tightly.

"No, I have seen you fight. You are a chef with knives and blades and you've mastered them. You are not useless," Tsuna says with the confidence of a boy who has been called so much worse. "You were overwhelmed. His wounds were not your fault. You healed him to the best of your ability."

"... I could have tried harder and maybe, just maybe, we could have been at dinner or lunch and I would be cooking right now."

"Maybe. But it's about the present, and what will happen right now. Instead, would you like to cook for us when we get back?" Tsuna knows it won't be like his mother's food and a few of his Guardians wouldn't be happy to be forced to stay in the Vongola mansion for dinner, but they could not afford to be selfish at this time.

"... I would like to, yeah." Brow Nie Jr. says wistfully, his eyes someplace far away, deep into his memories.

A moment of silence as one is in his memories and the other looks towards the other Sun Guardian that was present.

"Your Sun Guardian is strong," Brow Nie Jr. says softly, catching the child looking towards the white haired boy.

Tsuna closes his eyes and smiles, "Yes. Just like you."

"Hah, maybe..."

-

"I don't need your pity."

Visconti is not unlike his own Cloud Guardian, Tsuna muses. His white hand is blowing in the breeze and his sun glasses protecting his eyes from the harsh sunlight.

"I am not here to give you pity," Tsuna says softly, because Clouds were, in their own way, fragile, and one breath too many and they disperse. "Only understanding."

"You will not understand the pains of the man that could have won the fight," Visconti says gruffly. Yet, in a way, he was so different from Hibari despite all the need for solitude and strong words. "But I was sent to another mission."

"Maybe not, but I can still listen."

"There is nothing for me to say," Visconti says and Tsuna feels like there's a glare from behind those sunglasses.

"Of course there is," Tsuna says. " There is always something to say."

"No, there isn't."

"... Not even your thanks to him?" Tsuna smiles a little mischievously.

"What for?"

"Your sunglasses. They were from him, weren't they?" Tsuna points to the shades on his face. "He gave them to you, because he knew you couldn't stand bright lights."

"... Coyote said too much, it seems," Visconti comments dryly, his fingers touching the shades lightly.

"No... Nonno actually told me about the birthday party," Tsuna says, a chuckle being held back only by his sheer will. It would do not to mess with the man, since he might find it offensive.

Visconti's lips twitch into what could only be considered a smile for the man. "That man was always too sentimental for his own good."

"I heard it was a nice birthday party," Tsuna says, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

"It was. But it was messy."

"I do believe food fights tend to be that way," Tsuna says, not bothering to hide his amused tone. "We are staying over for dinner tonight. Brow Nie Jr. will be cooking."

"... It'll be messy," Visconti calls after the boy, as he watches the back of the child walk away. The boy only stops to throw smile over his shoulder.

When the boy is gone, he looks towards Nougat sitting by the Nono's grave and the grave itself. He whispers a "Grazie, Timoteo," into the wind, hoping it carried to the heavens.

-

"Hello, Vongola Decimo," Ganauche III says. He's laying down on the grass, his eyes not even turning from the sky.

"Hello, Ganauche," Tsuna replies. He smiles a little and sits beside the man on the grass. "You're the Lightning Guardian."

"Yeah," the man drawls. His speech has always been a little lazy. Just like Lambo's TYL-selves.

"You are the youngest Guardian?" Tsuna asks, eyes peering at the middle aged man, who had looked so out of place among the Ninth's Guardians.

"Hehe, yeah. I'm 37. I'm almost half his age," Ganauche says. His chuckle seemed forced.

"My Lightning Guardian is the youngest, too. But you guys are always so strong."

"... Not when I had failed to protect him."

Tsuna says, "You have not failed. You tried, and you guys pushed the enemies back long enough for nonno to die without the battle surrounding him."

"What does it matter to a dying man where he dies?" Ganauche's gaze towards him is sharp and full of almost childish hate.

"He died among his Famiglia. I think that's the best thing to do," Tsuna explains. He remembers flashes of memories, of a body that was his own, falling to the hard ground and the battle surrounding him and his Guardians too busy protecting him to kneel by his side for his last words.

"And you would know?" Ganauche spat as he sits up, his tone so different from the lazy drawl he started at.

"Yes."

Silence.

"I'm sorry," Ganauche says, because he remembers the dull eyes he had seen in the boy after their trip to the future that never would be.

"It's fine," Tsuna said.

"He was strong even to his last breath," Ganauche said. "I remember looking at him when I was young, looking at such a strong man, thinking he would never fall."

Then, with a shaking breath, Ganauche says with tears sliding down his cheek, "But, then he did."

"He is gone physically," the brunette said.

"Hmm," Ganauche said, coming his hand through blonde and black hair. "He always said things like that, you know. I didn't really get them until I grew older."

Tsuna doesn't say anything and just lays down for a while, admiring the blue sky.

-

The sun was starting to set when he confronts the Ninth Generation Mist Guardian. His friends had tried to stop him from going near the man, their senses apparently telling that that he was a dangerous man. Tsuna had only nervously and told them not to worry. He had slipped away when a fight had broken out.

His Intuition was never wrong, so when it said that Bouche Croquant was a decent man, he had listened.

He found Bouche Croquant sitting on a particularly ornate gravestone. He seemed to disregard the disrespect he was showing.

"It's going to be a beautiful night," Tsuna remarks, his hands tracing against the features of an angel on the tombstone. His hands feel numb in the cold air.

Bouche stays silent, his gaze on his gloved hands.

"My Guardians didn't want me to meet you, you know."

Bouche stares at him balefully. "Not all of us are Vindice prisoners."

Tsuna grimaces, but then lets a small smile take it's place. "Ah. I sometimes forget."

Not really. Sometimes I wake up to the images of Mukuro succeeding in his goals. But those dreams are rare. And who knows.. Maybe they were Mukuro's workings in the first place.

"Forgetting is a dangerous thing to do, Vongola Decimo," Bouche says quietly into the afternoon.

"Yes, but letting go is another thing," Tsuna says just as quietly. When a minute or two or maybe half an hour has passed, as they watched the afternoon sun set, Tsuna starts to walk away and back into his small circle of Family.

Because the Mist Guardian did not need words as much as the others. He could create his own from nothing.

-

When his friends notice his trek back to them, their quiet chatter stops. They each acknowledge him with a smile, though Ryohei yelled and Hibari just glanced in his direction . Well, it was something from the Cloud Guardian, at least. The children that had been brought along, Lambo, at the insistence of the Bovino Famiglia, and Fuuta, stopped their game and waved from their position on the grass. Chrome smiled shyly from next to them, with Mukuro leaning at the trunk of a tree not far from them..

"Welcome back, Tenth," Gokudera says, a cigarette missing from his lips for once. He pulls the boy into an one armed embrace, the expensive black suits becoming crinkled as they hug each other tightly. Yamamoto doesn't allow himself to be left out and ruffles the light brown hair with a smile.

As he releases Gokudera, Tsuna says softly to the group, "We're going to have dinner here tonight. We'll get back by tomorrow, since we have a school tomorrow. Brow Nie Jr. will be cooking, the Sun Guardian"

Tsuna quickly notices a glare from Hibari and the nervous glance Chrome throws at him.

"Hibari-san can eat in his room, or where ever he chooses. Ah.. Chrome, you can do so, too, if you're not comfortable with eating the Ninth Generation Guardians." Tsuna pauses. "I don't know about Mukuro, though."

"Kufufufu~ I'll be eating at the table. However much as I despise the mafia, it'll make the Mist Guardians look bad if I turn tail like Kyouya," Mukuro says, sending a mocking glance at the Cloud Guardian.

Hibari growls, "What did you say, you-"

"Hibari-san, Mukuro.. Please. Not today, not here," Tsuna says, suddenly feeling so tired. His grandfather, gone. While he had been talking to his grandfather's Guardians, he, too, was still coming to terms with the fact that he had been gone. But he had long ran out of tears in the days before he had come to Italy to attend the funeral.

Both stop and give one last glare before turning away from each other. They would have more time later.

"Ah, Tenth, can I ask why?" Gokudera shifts uneasily on his feet. He wasn't used to questioning his boss, but to make such a sudden decision.

Tsuna smiles a little. "Ah.. I heard from Visconti, the Cloud Guardian, that they throw wonderful dinners."

Yamamoto laughs," Haha, maybe I could help with the cooking. It'll be fun."

"Maybe. Anyways, let's head back to the mansion. It's growing dark," Tsuna says, pushing Yamamoto and Gokudera towards the direction of their waiting transport. the cementary was almost empty by now.

The rest of the Guardians pass by him as they each walk towards their ride, until the only one that was left was Tsuna and...

"Good work, Dame-Tsuna," a small, squeaky, voice said.

"Ah, Reborn. I've been wondering where you went off to," Tsuna said, peering at the baby that had landed on his mop of auburn hair.

"I went and arranged for the tickets to Belgium," Reborn said, a self satisfied smirk on his face.

Tsuna sighed, "I knew you were listening in."

Reborn simply smirked.

"Are you okay?"

"Dame-Tsuna, I don't need your little pep talks. I've listened to enough of them today," Reborn said, his tone light.

Tsuna smiled sadly, "Ah, but you were close to nonno, weren't you?"

"Yes. But like I said, I listened to enough of them today to learn."

"Eeeh, the Great Reborn, learning from me?" Tsuna says, knowing that his teasing could get him in trouble. Or pain.

"Dame-Tsuna..." Reborn says warningly, tapped the boy's forehead with his Leon-Gun. Tsuna just giggled and made his way over to the limo, where the rest of his Family was waiting.

-

A few days later, after the dinner that was named the "Food Massacre", in which both Families were incapacitated to an extent and the dining room was scarred for the rest of it's inanimate life, a letter came in the mail for the Rain Guardian.

"Dear Schitten,

He promised, didn't he? And I promised, too.

Don't worry, I had Reborn take care of everything. You guys don't have responsibilities for the rest of the week. Enjoy yourselves, please.

Sincerely,  
>Tsunayoshi."<p>

Enclosed in the envelope was six tickets to Belgium, along with six return tickets. Schnitten smiles a little more, and goes to the living room to inform the others.

-

Because the Sky encompasses all, even those outside of it's Family.


End file.
